


Chasing Shadows

by Crollalanza



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Spoilers for House of Hades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:17:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the final victory, with Camps Half-Blood and Jupiter allied in friendship and trust, one hero can't join the celebrations.  Alone in his cabin, Nico di Angelo cloaks himself in shadows as he tries to forget ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday present for the lovely Natalie, who is one of the most talented people I know and who shares my love for Nico di Angelo above all other Demi-Gods. (Although Bob and Little Bob come close.)

Shadows were his comfort, his cloak, his disguise and cover. He hesitated to call them friends because that was an alien concept, but in the shadows, he could claim some peace.

 

In the Hades cabin, Nico di Angelo lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Outside the campfire burned brighter than he remembered. And the sing-a-long led by the Apollo cabin, rang truer and louder than after any feast he could recall. But then, they’d survived a battle far fiercer and far bloodier than before, so it was hardly a surprise that Will Solace was loathe to cease his songs.  In his exhausted state, Nico wondered if he could wield his power and dim the light, but the songs would continue, and in a way, that continuity soothed him.

 

“Hey, there’s a feast,” Percy called from the door. “They’re toasting the heroes. They’re ... uh ... toasting you.”

 

Nico said nothing, barely daring to breathe. Perhaps if he snuffled a little, Percy would think he was asleep. It wasn’t far from the truth.

 

“Did you hear me? You’re hero. You should make an appearance.”

 

Nico exhaled softly, a slow whistle through his teeth.

 

“Nico!” Percy’s voice took on the familiar ring of leadership and orders. “I know you’re not asleep.”

 

“I’ll be out later,” Nico muttered. “Tell them to save me a pom-”

 

“A pomegranate – yeah, yeah, I get it,” Percy interrupted. He sounded angry, but instead of leaving, he stepped into the cabin, a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the fire lit sky.

 

 “I’m tired. I need sleep.”

 

“Not buying it, buddy,” Percy replied and moved closer. “We’re all tired, but pumped up on adrenaline.”

 

“You didn’t raise legions of the dead,” Nico warned. “Takes a different kind of strength. I’m ... depleted.”

 

“You need food, then, and company.”

 

“I think I know what I need,” Nico replied, his voice carrying a hint of a threat.

 

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s worked so well in the past.”

 

As Percy loomed over him and the silence threatened to solidify, Nico turned on his side, drawing his knees to his chest. “Leave me alone.”

 

“No can do,” Percy said and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m under orders to bring you outside.”

 

“Orders?” Nico said bitterly. “Who’d dare give the son of Poseidon orders?”

 

He heard Percy chuckle. “Jason for one.”

 

“Jason?”

 

“Yeah, you might know him. Son of Zeus. Came on a quest with us. Defeated Krios. Controls the wind...”

 

He could hear the smile in Percy’s words.

 

“Jupiter,” Nico stated after a while. “He’s the son of Jupiter – not Zeus.”

 

“Yeah, well, tell him that. He looks more at home here than in Camp Jupiter,” Percy said, shifting his weight slightly on the bed.

 

“Did he tell you to come here?” Nico asked.

 

“Uh  ... yeah, sort of. Seems to think you’ll come out if I talk you into it. No idea why.  If Hazel can’t shift you, then why would you come out with me?”

 

_Because you’re the one that matters. Thanks a bunch, Jason._

 

“So ... uh ...  ” Percy muttered, “you coming?”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

“C’mon, Nico,” Percy complained and started to tug on his arm. “Gaia’s asleep. We’re alive. We’ve won. Can’t you accept that and be grateful?”

 

Nico shrugged off Percy’s hand, or tried to, but Percy gripped harder, finally pulling him around until he was sitting upright. He’d forgotten the strength of the boy, his taut muscles honed from years of fighting. Whereas Nico ... still scrawny, still small, still the outsider no matter how many people _said_ they cared.

 

“Why can’t you celebrate?” Percy pleaded.

 

And he was so close now that even in the darkness of the cabin, Nico could see the glint of compassion in his sea-green eyes, and the shape of his lips – a wide generous mouth given to smiles and laughter.

 

“Percy...” Nico gulped. The space between them had frayed to nothing. He leant closer, unable to stop the motion he knew would tear them apart forever, intent only on pressing his lips to Percy’s, to stop the torment of not knowing.

 

“Whoa, what’s that?” Percy jerked his head away, and dropped his hand.

 

“Sorry, I-”

 

“Shh, listen.” Standing up, Percy strode to the door of the cabin, and Nico realised the songs had stopped; the fire was brighter. “Jeez!”

 

“What is it?” Nico asked, desperate to keep his voice calm.

 

“Looks like our dads have arrived, and the moms as well,” Percy replied. “You can’t hide now, Nico.”

 

No, he couldn’t. Hiding from Hades – or perhaps it was Pluto today – was not a great move. Disobeying a command from any god could mean death; disobeying one from his own dad would mean death would be the least of his worries. Souls in torment were Hades’ speciality and he made no allowances for family. And in that moment, a glimmer of light chinked through his blackened mind. He cared about his dad’s opinion and didn’t want to make him mad. Perhaps he wasn’t as broken as he’d thought.

 

 

 _“Behold the heroes_  
three approach our table lain  
with food and drink.”

 

“Four syllables in that last line!” shouted Artemis to her brother.

 

Apollo frowned. “With ambrosial food?”

 

“SIX!” she jeered.

 

Glaring at her, Apollo stopped the recitation of his latest haiku, picked up his lyre and began to serenade Percy and Nico as they walked through the swathes of half-bloods, Greek and Roman, to pay their respects to the gods. Jason stood by his father’s side and watched their progress intently. He smiled at Nico as if pleased he was there.

 

 _Perhaps he is,_ Nico thought. _Maybe Jason’s right and no one will judge me._ He stopped walking and, with Percy, bowed before the big three.

 

“You will join us.” It wasn’t a request but an order from Zeus. And although Nico would have preferred to sit with those who had sometimes called him friend, he was not about to offend the King of the Gods. He stepped to the left, noting with relief that Hazel was already seated beside their father.

 

“My son,” Hades began, and beckoned to him.

 

“Father,” Nico acknowledged.

 

“Know that I am proud of you. A true son of Hades. A worthy wielder of the Stygian sword.”

 

Nico didn’t smile but remained grimfaced as he took his seat. Hazel winked at him, and as he glanced at her, he noticed the other heroes sitting with their respective parents.

 

“I’m glad you came,” Hazel said as if he had a choice.

 

“Stops you being considered the weird one, huh?” he countered.

 

“Something like that,” she replied and nudged some honey cakes towards him.

 

He shook his head. Honey was cloying, his taste buds preferring the salt of potato chips, or the sour tang of lemons. But surveying the table, he saw nothing he liked, and reached for the pitcher of water.

 

“You prefer something else?”

 

 The voice was soft, so soft Nico wondered if he’d imagined it, but the hand nudging his shoulder was very real. He turned his head, meaning to say he was fine and would make do with water, but the face staring back at him took all words away.

 

Jason Grace was handsome. Percy had a rugged attractiveness. Frank had grown into his dark, brooding looks ... but this ... this face perusing him so intently, had to be the most beautiful Nico had seen. With corn coloured hair dropping beyond his shoulders, eyes a warm blue, and a mouth the colour of damask cherries, the young man carrying a pitcher graced Nico with another smile and raised one eyebrow in query.

 

“I can fetch you something else,” he murmured. “Whatever you desire.”

 

“Why would you?” To his ears, he sounded abrupt, defensive but Nico couldn’t seem to stop the acid pouring from his mouth. What he desired was impossible. That was the only truth in his life.

 

“I’m Ganymede,” the man replied mildly as he moved on. “It is my job.”

 

Hades held out his goblet, demanding red wine. It flowed like the darkened blood of the rivers in Tartarus out of Ganymede’s pitcher, although Nico could have sworn it had contained water only moments before.

 

“Is he a god?” he asked Hades, when Ganymede had moved on.

 

“Barely,” Hades said dismissively. “Not my brother’s finest moment. Personally, I think he should have had his fun and then turned the poor boy into a cow, as is his way. Conferring immortality upon Ganymede was bound to lead to trouble.”

 

Nico said no more but sipped his water as he wracked his brains trying to remember the story of Ganymede. A young man - a shepherd, he thought - so beautiful that Zeus brought him to Olympus, leaving his father a pair of storm footed horses that could race over water.  Ganymede had been made the Cup Bearer, usurping Hebe, Zeus’s own daughter. Hera had been furious.

 

_Why?_

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ganymede circle the table, pausing when he came to Zeus. Making sure Hera’s attention was elsewhere, (she was rebuking Ares for winding up Hephaestus by making goo-goo eyes at Aphrodite) Zeus placed his hand on Ganymede’s arm. To the casual observer, it was an innocent gesture, but as Ganymede leant closer to refill Thalia’s glass, Nico noticed Zeus’s forefinger tracing circles on his skin.  The Cup Bearer did not flinch, but neither did he show any hint that he would return the gesture. Lifting his face slightly, he met Nico’s eyes, his stare impassive.

 

_Oh._

 

A lover Zeus did not transform into a cow, but instead made Immortal.

 

A lover that could not claim divinity by right of mothering a god.

 

A lover.

 

A sensation almost like hunger niggled inside of him, so reaching for an apple, Nico ate, but all the while, he watched Ganymede’s progress around the table. And once again their eyes met.

 

 

The gods did not stay for long. Honouring the demi-gods with their presence for an hour was as much as they could be bothered with, and when the moon peeked between the branches of Thalia’s pine, they left en masse, with no lingering goodbyes. Only Dionysus stayed, still tethered to the camp, although his days of exile from Olympus were rumoured to be numbered. He looked oddly happy to be still on earth. In the company of the gods, he was diminished, but here with the demi-gods, he could once again take charge.

 

“Now that they have deigned to leave us,” he declared, “the fun begins. Demi-gods, head for Firework Beach.”

 

“Nico?”  Hazel held out her hand.

 

“Uh...” He meant to say yes, even after noticing that her eyes were flicking across to Frank.  But then he saw Annabeth picking her way through the campers towards Percy. “I’m not in the mood for fireworks.”

 

Something in his voice snapped her attention back to him. Hazel narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “I know telling you not to brood won’t work.”

 

“So don’t tell me,” he retorted.

 

“Then join us at the beach and lighten up, brother.”

 

He almost laughed. “Bit difficult for a son of the Underworld.”

 

“Try,” she whispered, and clutched his shoulder. “Please, Nico.”

 

“Maybe later,” he said, and smiled crookedly at the concern radiating from her. “Don’t raise hell without me,” he called.

 

Hazel must have felt reassured by the quip because she smiled back and raised her hand in fond salute before she made her way towards Frank. To their left, Nico saw Percy link arms with Annabeth and waited for the familiar leaden sensation to thump inside. Perhaps he should have kissed him. Percy would have pushed him away, but at least he’d have known and would have stopped pressing Nico for explanations and being so goddamned concerned! It would have been a release, and he could have run again.   He watched Percy touch his lips to Annabeth’s, an action that usually caused his gut to twist in torment, yet the pain felt like more of a dull ache than a stab. Heaving a slow steady sigh, he stood up and turned towards the woods, trudging steps, one foot in front of the other as he sought escape.

 

In the woods, the dark encased him. Filling his being with endless night, he lay on the dank ground and inhaled the stench of dead wood mingled with the life blood of nature. And then another scent lilted towards him. Sweet, like honey, but not cloying. Rich and yet it still meandered on the air, not sinking under its weight.

 

“Is it a relief to know you’ve survived, Nico di Angelo?”

 

He recognised the voice, despite having only heard it once and only briefly. “What are you doing here?”

 

Emerging from the trees, Ganymede smiled down at him. “They have feasted. I am no longer needed. I have a lot of free time, you know.”

 

“But why here?”

 

“Answer my question first,” he replied, and settled himself on the ground opposite Nico.

 

“I don’t understand what you mean. I didn’t die in the battle, but I’m not afraid of death.”

 

“No, you’re afraid of life, I think,” Ganymede said mildly. “Besides, I wasn’t talking about the battle.”

 

“What else have I survived?”

 

“Heartbreak.” The word was overused. Clichéd. Melodramatic. But something in Ganymede’s tone dignified Nico’s despair, and lessened it somewhat.

 

Nico shrugged, thinking not just of Percy but his mum and Bianca. “I’m accustomed to it.”

 

“You live with too many shadows, Nico di Angelo,” Ganymede whispered. “You should accustom yourself to the light occasionally.”

 

“Why are you here?” Nico repeated.

 

“Walk with me,” Ganymede said and held out his hand.

 

“Answer my question,” Nico replied.

 

Sighing and letting his hand drop to his side, Ganymede got to his feet, and began to brush leaves off his clothes.  It was then that Nico realised he’d changed. At the feast, Ganymede had been dressed in traditional Greek clothes, a white tunic dropping just above his knees, but now he wore cut down shorts and a ragged white t-shirt. With his hair swept back in a pony-tail, he rivalled Percy for the surfer-dude look. Beside him, clothed all in black, Nico felt old. Hell, he was old, in time, but Ganymede had to be thousands of years out of time, not the mere sixty Nico had been misplaced by. However, the Immortals’ Cup Bearer, so concerned with dead mulched leaves, looked the epitome of fresh unstained youth.

 

“I came to see you,” Ganymede stated and smiled wryly. “I can see by your reaction that my answer surprises you. Are you so caught up in misery that you can’t believe someone would seek you out?”

 

Nico said nothing, but he stood up, pointedly ignoring the leaves stuck to his own clothes. “Where are we walking to?”

 

“There _are_ fireworks.”

 

“Join the couples at the beach,” spat Nico. “No thanks.”

 

“We could sit apart from them, linger in the shadows. And if anyone happens to see you, then glower a little and pretend you’re not enjoying it.”

 

“I _won’t_ enjoy it.”

 

“Then you _won’t_ need to pretend,” teased Ganymede.

 

As he walked ahead, Nico hesitated. Ganymede’s presence was unsettling but not uncomfortable. It was as if he were about to take his first ride on a rollercoaster: there were nerves buzzing in his stomach, his palms were sweating, and he felt lightheaded. But he wanted to take the ride, wanted to feel that thrill of anticipation, even if the rollercoaster never moved beyond snails’ pace.

 

Ganymede stopped at the edge of the North Woods. Before them, there lay a clear view of the beach, and the demi-gods stretched out on blankets, or stood around in groups, whooping at every bang and squeal.

 

“Are you afraid?” Ganymede asked.

 

“Of fireworks?” Nico laughed. “I walked through Tartarus. A few bright lights in the sky and loud noises aren’t going to make me jump.”

 

“I meant of having fun,” said Ganymede and raised an eyebrow. “You knew that, though.”

 

“Not afraid,” Nico mumbled. “Just not used to it.”

 

Sitting on a fallen tree, he pulled his hoodie closer around him, for despite the sultry July air, he felt the cold to his bones. Ganymede joined him, not too close, and pulled out a small jar.  “Have some of this,” he offered. “It will warm you.”

 

Nico regarded the jar dubiously, and the contents with even more suspicion. It was a viscous liquid, golden in colour and seemed to swirl of its own accord because Ganymede was holding it perfectly still.

 

“It’s honey,” he explained.

 

Nico shook his head. “Don’t like it.”

 

“You’ll like this,” Ganymede replied. He dipped his finger into the jar, scooped up a small trickling mass and licked it off. His face took on a dreamy expression, with a glow to his cheeks and eyes. “You really do need to try.”

 

Grudgingly, Nico accepted the jar. He sniffed at it, waiting for the sickly scent to hit, but to his surprise, there was only a very faint smell – and it wasn’t honey.

 

“Lemons?”

 

“Lemon honey,” Ganymede confirmed. “And a touch of vanilla.”

 

Spooning some up with his finger, Nico let the honey drip into his mouth. He’d tasted ambrosia before (sharp grapefruit) and nectar once. Both had revived and refreshed him, but this, Ganymede’s honey, felt like life coursing through his veins. An unfamiliar sensation swept through him, it was as if he were ... _happy_.

 

“Careful,” Ganymede warned, taking back the jar. “It’s potent.”

 

Almost satisfied (but not quite), Nico slunk down to the ground, leaning his back on the tree trunk. He did feel warmer now, so tugged off his hoodie and used it as a pillow, little caring his arms - a mass of scars from years of conflict – were now on show.  Even the fireworks didn’t annoy him as he watched them blaze a colourfully bright trail across the darkened sky.

 

“They’re not as emphatic during the day,” Ganymede mused.

 

“Is that some kind of allegory?” Nico asked sardonically. “I- am- dark- but –need- some- light.”

 

Laughing, Ganymede joined him on the grass. “Am I that obvious?”

 

“A bit,” Nico admitted. “But to be fair, everyone here speaks to me about light and dark. Rachel’s favourite is something about shades of grey.”

 

There was a pause in the display, and craning his neck, Nico watched Leo head towards the pier. “Must be the finale,” he said. “Leo’s display - it’ll be impressive. You should ... uh ... stay.”

 

“I wasn’t intending to go anywhere,” Ganymede replied softly, adding, “At least not yet.”

 

Then he reached out, his little finger touching Nico’s elbow, tracing one livid scar upwards, but so gently that Nico could barely feel the pressure, he just knew it was there.

 

“You mustn’t -”

 

“We’re well hidden. But do you really care who sees?” he said. Propping himself up on his elbow, Ganymede continued to trail his finger along Nico’s arm, stopping when he reached his wrist.

 

Inhaling, Nico concentrated hard on keeping his pulse steady, not wanting Ganymede to know how much his touch unnerved him. And it did unnerve him. As well as excite him. He could put himself in a death trance, slow his heart to an impossible beat, but he couldn’t stop the hairs on his arms standing on end, or the almost purr escape from his throat.

 

When Ganymede’s mouth found his, claiming his lips in a prolonged soft caress, Nico was so adrift he could barely remember their kiss starting.  With hands cupped around Ganymede’s face, fingers lacing into his hair, Nico drew him closer and didn’t resist when he felt a hand tug on the hem of his shirt. But when the warm palm, encountered his chest, running up and down his ribs, Nico froze, painfully aware of his emaciated frame.

 

“You must stop,” he mumbled. “This can’t happen.”

 

“Why not?” Ganymede pulled away, his eyes wary. “Is it Percy Jackson? Because, Nico, I don’t think you’ll ever find him willing.”

 

“No... Yes ...” Nico stumbled, and then the force of Ganymede’s question hit him. “How do you know about Percy?” he demanded, mortified at what he must have betrayed. Did everyone know? 

 

“We have a mutual acquaintance,” Ganymede told him.

 

“Jason Grace? He swore not to tell!”

 

Shaking his head, Ganymede sighed. “Your friend hasn’t betrayed you, but Zephyrus made no such promise. He recognises the futility of my existence. I had hoped you’d be over Jackson by now. Boyhood crushes should be consigned away with Mythomagic figurines, but if you aren’t ready, if you really are addicted to your misery, then I shall leave.”

 

“No, it’s not Percy,” Nico blurted out. “It’s ... you.”

 

“You don’t want this? I’m that repellent?” Ganymede queried, a smile playing on his lips as he splayed his hand across Nico’s concave stomach, one finger slipping under the waistband of his jeans.

 

_Gods! Did he have any idea what this was doing to him?_

“You’re Zeus’s lover,” Nico rasped and with a heroic effort jerked away. “I’m not afraid of death, but I’d rather avoid perpetual torment.”

 

“We’re not lovers,” Ganymede snapped.

 

“Not ... but...”

 

“I’m his most guilty pleasure. His fatal flaw, if you like.  A reminder of his folly in granting me immortality based on an ill-conceived lust that he dared only consummate in his thoughts.” Sighing, Ganymede lay back on the ground. “It was all so long ago.”

 

“He’s still not a god I want to cross,” Nico said stubbornly. “He killed my mother, and would have killed my sister and me.”

 

“He won’t harm you,” Ganymede insisted. “It assuages his guilt to know I am content. But if you would rather stay here ... alone ... watching Jackson ham fistedly paw Athene’s girl, then I’ll leave and let you wallow in your shadows.”

 

Leo’s finale burst into flame, the loud bangs and the piercing screeches ripping through the night. With lightning bolts, tridents, owls, flowers, lyres and arrows competing in the sky, Nico tried to break eye-contact, but Ganymede’s stare, as intense as any Percy shot at Annabeth, rendered him immobile.

 

“Shall I leave?” Ganymede murmured. Entwining his fingers in Nico’s, he raised them to his lips, kissing each knuckle and fingertip. “Or shall I chase away your shadows?”

 

“Stay,” Nico breathed.

 

“Then close your eyes, Nico di Angelo,” Ganymede whispered.

 

He obeyed, waiting for another kiss, but instead something sweet dripped onto his lips. As well as the honey, the lemon and the hint of vanilla, Nico once again tasted life. The best parts. His father’s approval, Jason’s friendship, Hazel’s trust, Percy’s pride and underpinning it all, Bianca’s smile. Everything he loved wrapped up in Ganymede’s gift.

 

“Would you like more?”

 

He shook his head, and tugged on Ganymede’s sleeve to draw him back to the ground. “I’d rather have you, and not the illusion.”

 

“It’s real enough,” Ganymede replied. “And if you’ll forgive another allegory, sometimes you need a pin-prick of light to see, even if you’re used to the night.”

 

Nico laughed; to his surprise, it felt natural and he felt whole. But as the fireworks ended, he knew the celebrations would soon come to a close. “How long can you stay here?”he asked, sounding wistful.

 

“Until morning,” Ganymede replied.

 

Nico’s insides dropped. His taste of happiness turned to ashes on his tongue, so he turned away, shrugging himself back into his hoodie. Then he felt Ganymede curl around his body, warming Nico as surely as the honey had done.

 

“I will return,” he whispered. “Every night if you want.”

 

“Only at night?”

 

“When you’re comfortable with _us_ , Nico, I will join you in the sun. Until then ...” He turned Nico around and kissed both cheeks, finally settling on his mouth. “We’ll meet only in the shadows.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
